Carpe Diem
by SilentSniper
Summary: Master Fung has never married, his life was pious and just. He is calm and levelheaded, but he cannot handle this child that was thrown so unceremoniously into his life. Master Fung and Omi pieces centering on family.
1. ChildCare

Xiaolin Showdown does not belong to me.

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The child cries hysterically. The child just cries and cries in his little makeshift bed and kicks his little feet. The child wails for the warmth of a mother, he wails for food, he wails for cleanliness and he wails for something else. He doesn't know what to do. He feeds him and clothe him...the child should be silent and happy, but he just cries.

"Maybe he's hungry again?" the green little dragon suggested from the floor as he peered up at the small squirming infant.

The haggard man could only sigh as he scooped the screaming child in his arms. Now his wailing echoed further in his poor abused ears and he could only groan. The little dragon, as haggard as him, handed him the warm bottle that was filled with luscious milk with a weary smile. The child refused the milk and cried even louder as it dribbled down his chin.

"Yesh, that kid has got some lungs..."the dragon commented with an pained voice as he covered his ears. "Why are we keeping him, Master Fung?"

"For the last time, Dojo...his mother left him and so he has nobody to take care of him," Master Fung patiently answered. He glanced at the wailing baby once again. "Perhaps he needs a bath..."

Gentle calloused fingers unclothed the little one and carried him over to the sink. Dojo filled it with lukewarm water and watched as Fung washed the newborn with careful hands. As he was being cleansed, the infant cried loudly and squirmed, protesting every single drop of water.

"You fed him, you washed and now you're changing him...what else could he possibly want?" Dojo huffed whilst draping himself over the child's bed.

"I do not know..." Fung muttered as he held the still-wailing boy. "I do not know how to care for children. I haven't seen any children in these hills nor mothers taking care of their children..."

"You could give him to the orphanage..." Dojo implied impishly.

"No! The child's mother asked me to care for her son and I have my word."

But! We don't know what...to...do? Hey, the kid's quiet!" Dojo cried.

Fung glanced down to the infant and truth be told, he was quiet and his eyes were half-closed.

"What? Why?" Fung whispered. Then he noticed; in his argument with Dojo, he had started to rock his arms because he didn't want Dojo to agitate the infant further.

"Just keep doing that," Dojo muttered.

Slowly and with their breaths being held, the child was lulled to sleep. And all that was heard was quiet breathing.

"Awww, he looks kinda cute like that, you know, all quiet," Dojo remarked as he and Fung now took the time to marvel at the sleeping child that was dumped so unceremoniously in their care.

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This tale was called Carpe Diem because taking care of child requires one not to waste a single moment, in my opinion. Also, I wanted to expand on the parental relationship Fung probably has towards Omi, so these will be short drabbles and some side stories.


	2. Side Story: Mother Dearest

Xiaolin Showdown does not belong to me.

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"Rain, rain, go away, come again another day," sang the little dragon ever so wistfully.

"Do you really want it to go away?" asked the man with sagging wrinkles.

The tiny dragon turned to him and smiled toothily. "Nah, its kinda nice."

The man nodded and smiled. "Yes, its rather nice..."

"But do you know what would really be nice?" quipped the non-winged dragon.

The craggy faced monk shook his head as he continued to indulge in his ink splattered scrolls. "No, I don't, Dojo."

"Food-" Dojo said before trailing off as sharp desperate raps echoed through their meager temple room.

The sage-like monk rose gracefully and opened the chipped dirt-brown door as Dojo hid. Outside, in the lightly pouring rain and cloudy sky, was a haggard looking woman who was perhaps of Chinese descent by the looks of her wispy black hair, golden fair skin and black eyes.

"Yes?" he asked politely.

"Are you Master Fung?" she demanded.

He nodded and gestured for her to come into his warm little temple. He briefly noticed that two small children grasped her hands. One about three years of age and the other about five years of age.

"I came to ask you for a favor..." she began with a trembling tone.

"Darling children..."he commented to break the tension that seeped into the once cozy atmosphere. "You should be proud."

She flinched and stiffened. "I was," she spat and looked quite dismayed and irate.

He glanced once more at her young brood. The younger boy was healthy plump and golden tanned with his mother's black hair and eyes. The older boy was of slight frame and perhaps too delicate and yellowish pale to be called healthy. Fung assumed that he got that from his mother...but...Still, there was nothing to be ashamed of.

"I don't see why you shouldn't be proud of such fine boys," Fung said.

"Tai is indeed a fine child, but Shorin..." she whispered, gesturing to her younger son. "He is an unholy child!"

The patient man raised an eyebrow. "Unholy?"

The frail woman tensed. "Shorin was our long awaited son...my husband, he was wanted an heir and we only had three daughters...Shorin was finally born, albeit a little too small and thin, but we were overjoyed. We thought our son was beautiful and perfect. My husband lavished attention on him and spared no expenses and I was overly protective of my husband's child. But after he was five years old...things happened."

Master Fung pressed tea in her shaking hands and urged her to continue.

"Water would suddenly sprout unnaturally up from our faucets whenever he glanced at it. I thought it was a coincidence, but one day, he materialized an orb of warm out of nowhere! I was terrified, but my husband was proud of him. Said that his son was mentally gifted...then Shorin flooded his nursery when he made a tantrum...unholy child I decided."

The older child grasped his mother's hand because he heard his name, but he his mother snatched her hand back fearfully, leaving her son grasping nothing and bursting into tears. Fung was stunned at such un-motherly behavior.

"But these incidents must be something else and not your son's fault..."

The now-agitated woman shook her head vigorously. "No! It was Shorin! I see a demon witch behind him! He is of unholy birth! And he shall kill us all!...I need you to exorcist the demon out..."

Fung shook his head and spoke above the child's wailing. "I am not a priest nor am I qualified for that..."

The lady slumped in her chair. "I dare not go anywhere else...our reputation will be ruined...I don't want him near Tai," she muttered and shoved her son away from her younger child. Shorin only cried harder. His mother ignored his pitiful wailing.

"Mama! Mama! Mama!"

The man could feel the hidden Dojo shake in fury and he admitted to himself that he also felt the same. He bent over and gathered the squirming child in his arms.

"Leave him with me..."

The woman peered at him. "Leave him here...?" she echoed.

Fung nodded as he tried to sooth the boy. "You do not want your son. I have no desire for you to abandon the boy somewhere else."

The woman grasped her other boy's hand and stood up. "My husband will be depressed over losing his favorite child, but I will not have him endangering my family and I am sure Tai will win him over...Keep him for all I care."

Fung watched the woman leave with her remaining son who did not realize that he was now devoid of a brother. Once they were gone, Shorin cried for his mother.

Dojo slithered out. "Poor kid. To have his mother abandon him."

Master Fung continued to comfort Shorin. "She was afraid of what she does not understand...she'll regret not having a Dragon for a son."

"A Dragon? Seriously?

The thin man shrugged. "It has to be."

The little dragon frowned. "So Shorin is staying with us?"

"No, not Shorin. Shorin died when his mother abandoned him...he is Omi and he is my ward."

"Pfft," was all the dragon said.

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A different view on how Omi came to live with Master Fung. I wanted to portray Omi's mother differently, other then some faceless woman who either died or abandoned her babe on the footsteps of the temples. Well...she is still faceless, but...


	3. First Firsts

Xiaolin Showdown does not belong to me.

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"Master Fung! Come quick!" came the loud raucous yell that nearly deafened his poor ears.

Before that summoning cry, the cleric of the seemingly poor temple was sitting on the wooden floor and was meditating for an answer to his "parenting" problems. The child was barely a year old, but he was still terribly whiny and needy and frail. Constantly wanting attention. Morning, noon and night. The creased face made a face that reflected all the tiredness in his body.

"Master Fung! Its Omi!"

Instant fear washed over him and it felt an egg dripping down his head and washing him with its sticky residue. The child! Something must be wrong. What would he do if Omi was gravely injured?

That thought frightened him. He had come to love the boy dearly ( he admits it) over this past vomiting-crying-smelly year. He raced down the temple halls; heart thudding painfully loudly over thoughts of blood and broken child body. His imagination was grand and vast; he could picture the tragic scene clearly...truthfully, his mind's eye scared him.

Finally, he reached the entrance hall and no gory spilt blood greeted him. There were no tears and there was no crowd gathering around the shattered little baby body. There was only Dojo. And he looked ecstatically happy and reading to burst.

"Wha-"

"Look!" the dragon instructed.

And 'lo and behold, the said child was walking tentatively and precariously with a cheek-splitting one-toothed smile.

Master Fung's upset frown broke into an equally bright smile. And he began to laugh. Quite loudly. Laughing and chortling and snickering.

Dojo stared, fright overshadowing his happiness. _Master Fung? Laughing? Ack! _Small and stout Omi stopped beaming his sun-shiny smile and stared at Fung with a not-so baby's confusion.

It was dreadfully uncommon for the monk to laugh or to even split a smile. And that laughter echoed boisterously and became a balm to sooth the vomit smelling-loud crying-diaper smelling room. The mirth settled over the dusty shelves and gritty walls; perhaps it will be joined by more laughter and perhaps they shall brighten and spick and span this dusky place.

Still laughing and happy, the wrinkly smelling-of-mildew monk scooped the tiny child in his arms. Omi giggled and waved pudgy little arms and squirmed in the warm embrace. If he was older, he would be proud of the attention his marvelous walking feat gathered.

"He walked! Quick! Take a picture!" Ah, the giddiness of a caretaker.

"Aye, aye, Captain!"

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Ehh, I don't know if Master Fung has a camera...Master Fung is laughing. eye twitch But the man needs to loosen up once in awhile, its good to laugh. Very good. As you probably have noticed, Dojo always has the last word in the chapter and it will probably continue as such. He seems as the type of dragon to break the tension with his flippency. I heart Dojo.

And much lurve to all those who have reviewed so far. I love thee.


	4. Never Never Ever

Xiaolin Showdown doesn't belong to me. Jesus knows it.

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"Da-da."

Black beady eyes outlined in crinkles widened slightly and stared in astonishment at the little infant currently on the floor and playing his meager simple toys. Before the infant had uttered anything, he had been relaxing in a chair, drinking lukewarm tea and dining on chucky icky-ish soup. Dojo and he were never capable cooks. "What?"

Same black beady eyes stared back at him. "Da-da" And broke into another sun-blinding smile that struck him as sort of cheesy. And seeking attention, wanting attention and needing attention.

"No, no, no, no, not Dada. Master Fung," the monk corrected. Well, Omi finally gave him a name and he had somewhat expected himself to be Omi's first word, but it was Dojo who was Omi's first word...

Omi blinked. "Da-da."

Master Fung reached down and scooped the child and his stuffed dragon up in his arms. Once he sat the little toddler in his lap, he wagged his finger in disapproval.

"No, not your Dada. Never your Dada."

It stung him a bit. But he wasn't the child's father and Omi deserved the truth and truth was important to a monk.

"Da-da?"

"No, Master Fung."

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Too much sugar...I need black coffee. Hehe. Dojo wasn't in this!


End file.
